Darkness
by Music Writes
Summary: Ginny was always looking for the sunlight, always a way out of the darkness. She never realized it was always right in front of her.


Darkness. It's like a large, black, empty void. All I see is darkness. Sometimes all I am is darkness.

I never asked for this. I never wanted to be like this. But that's just life isn't it? You don't always get what you want; you don't always want what you get.

I didn't expect this. In retrospect I should have. You don't just go through what I have and survive unscathed. The darkness though, I didn't expect this.

Tom meant to hurt me. He meant to kill me. But he failed, at least he failed then.

That was six years ago. I've grown up a lot since then. I've gone through a lot since then. I'm so tired. I'm tired of the lies, the screaming and the crying. No one knows about those but me. They come to me in my dreams. Every night I wake up screaming. I'm glad I'm finally seventeen. Who ever invented the Silencing Charm was a genius.

I don't know when **it **started exactly. The darkness, the nightmares. I'm not even exactly sure what **it** is. But **it** haunts me. Every night I cry out with my hands outstretched, reaching for something that can't be reached. Or maybe it just doesn't want to be reached. Maybe I'm just not supposed to reach it.

I now know what I'm reaching for. I realized it on the day of Fred's funeral. I reach for sunlight. I reach for the end. The void of my darkness.

When you die are you bathing in sunlight? Or are you drowning in darkness? Questions like this keep me up for days. I rather like it though. If I don't sleep then I can't dream. And if I can't dream then the nightmares can't find me.

I haven't slept in days. Not since George broke down. It's been a year since Fred's death. A year four days ago. George was so strong all day. We told stories of Fred, like the time he convinced me there was galleons in my ears and I spent two days trying to find them. George was so strong.  
Then last night I went outside for some air and I heard sobs. And there was George clutching one of Fred's old blue knit sweaters and wearing his own. I could see the yellow G stitched into it. It wasn't even that hot out.

I didn't know what to do. I don't understand tears. I never cry. I scream and I hide, but I never cry. But as I stood in the pool of light from the open back door staring out at one of my older brother's shaking backs, I realized something. I was only in the darkness because I refused to open my eyes.

Maybe the darkness I was seeing was only the back of my own eyes. As I stood there in the doorway I shut my eyes, clutching my hands in a tight fist in front of me. I stepped foreword one step. Then another. Two more steps later I opened my eyes. In front of me, within arms reach was George. He still didn't know I was there. I could so easily leave him to his tears, his thoughts. But wasn't I left alone once before? I would not allow the darkness to swallow my brother too. It could only have one of us. I would not sentence him to this.

Drawing in a shaky breathe I took another step and sat down next to him. I didn't hesitate, I wrapped my arm around his shoulder protectively. After all those years I finally understood my brothers' need to protect me from harm. I felt bad for fighting with them so often.

George chocked down another sob and twisted to press his face into my shoulder. I said nothing. I just let him cry. Sometime later the sky began to turn grey. And as the tips of the sun beams began to spill over the horizon, tears began to spill from my eyes. As I stared up at the sun making its ascent into the sky I recalled something Fred had once said to me in one of his rare burst of seriousness.

"Even the darkest hour has only sixty minutes."

Staring down at my older brother's red hair, so like my own, I let the tears continue to fall. And with each wet tear track, each taste of salt water, a little more darkness leaks out. By the time the sun was fully able to be seen I had cried all my tears and George was silent in my arms.

I stood carefully and offered him my hand. As I pulled him to his feet we offered each other shy smiles, the way you do when you've shown more of yourself to a person.

"Let's go in." I say and give his hand a little squeeze. He agrees and wraps his arm around my shoulders. And for the first time since I was eight years old, I let him.

As my older brother opens the door for me and I see Ron and my parents sitting at the table blinking the sleep from their eyes, I smile.

I have finally found the sunlight.

It was in plain view all along. All I had to do was open my eyes.


End file.
